Persephone chuckled, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. "Heeled boots are so very impractical, but Mother says they're 'the modern style' and I should be 'lucky to even own a pair'!" Although Dr. Witaker wouldn't know this, Persephone's impression of her mother was spot-on. It was a little talent she had, imitating people to a tee, but she didn't often get to use it, as most of those at her family's status would be offended by a simple joking impression. Persephone gave a huff and, when they finally reached the top of the hill, did not let go of Dr. Witaker's arm, finding she rather liked the pleasant feel of the gesture. "Now I am in Whitby, though, there is nothing to stop me from buying a pair that aren't so incompetent!"

"Indeed there isn't. But now I think I should walk you home so your feet don't blister in those impractical shoes. Blisters are bad for your feet." He couldn't help but to go into doctor mode when he said that. He would let her point out the way to her home and he would walk her that way. Then he would reply to her last words, "Indeed... And you very well should." It seemed that the young woman needed more encouragement. He almost asked about her age but decided against it as it was rude to ask a woman how old she was. But then again, if his plan actually hatched and grew into something, and she somehow accepted his offer he may or may not make, he would find out then. Not that he planned on asking at the moment.

Persephone smiled softly at the caring doctor's words. Even she knew blisters hurt and were bad for anyone's feet, but she still appreciated the sentiment. "I most certainly will," she replied affirmatively and led the way down the streets to her relatively-new home, finally recognizing the way. One of the few things she liked about Whitby so far (excluding Dr. Witaker, for his new presence in her life was another pleasant matter entirely) was the structure of this modest home. From the designs on the porch to the integrity of the basement posts to the gorgeous veranda out back, Persephone thanked her parents for only one thing: that they'd allowed her to pick which house-for-sale she'd wanted. That said, this was the same house they expected her to settle down in, and although Whitby was an unfamiliar place, Persephone found herself at this moment starting to not hate the idea of staying here indefinitely.

He let her take the lead, keeping his arm available for her so she could walk without wrenching her ankle or something. Those blasted shoes that women wore these days, he thought... He liked being her escort; the feeling of her hand on his arm reminded him of better days... and to have a lovely woman to whom the hand belonged walking with him was a nice change from his loneliness. He wanted the walk to last longer, selfishly so, but he knew she needed to get out of those awful boots. "Your passion for what you wish to do is refreshing. It is lovely to hear someone speak of what their heart loves."

Persephone blushed. "You really think so?" Already, Dr. Witaker had astounded her by encouraging her dream, and here he was complimenting said dream and, by close extension, her. As she let go of his arm, she took a few steps up the front stairs of her house but still faced him, waiting for a reply. She felt a kinship to Dr. Witaker growing in her and she decided she would make the conscious effort to become his friend, however that may come about.

"I do think so..." he said with a smile. He meant it. He regarded her with his warm eyes and a toothy smile, and went on to say, "It has truly been a pleasure making your acquaintance, Miss Blythe." He gave a little bit of a bow, took her hand if she let him and placed a kiss on her knuckle. Then he was backing away. "I must go home now, there is much to do..." And with that, he said a soft adieu (and gave her time to reply) and turned back in the direction from whence they came, whistling a jaunty tune to echo his pleasure at having just spoken to a beautiful and smart young miss.